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chlorinecake · 6 months

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Can you wright a Ni-ki fanfic where him and reader have a (just a regular) (or or maybe even slightly heated) make out sesh ???

“kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️

⟢ pairing 西村力 x fem!reader ⟢ contains shy and flirty kissing, wandering hands, mentions of body image ⟢ 𝟔𝟗𝟖 words 📍 now playing … 🕸️

One day, you decided to go clothes shopping with your boyfriend Riki, trying on a few pieces for him in the mall dressing room to make sure you were on the right track. It’s not like you needed any new clothes… you simply just wanted your wardrobe to match more of what Riki wore.

“Turn around,” you told your boyfriend in a demanding yet sing-singy voice, cautiously taking off your shirt as you observed the way he buried his face in his delicate palms, “and no peeking!”

When you finally gave him the cue to uncover his eyes, he looked you up and down with a smile ghosting over his plush lips.

“What do you think?” You asked, striking a few basic poses.

He couldn’t help but blush a little at how cute you looked while checking yourself out in the mirror. You and Riki had came a long way with each other when it came to self confidence, and it delighted him to see how comfortable you’d grown with yourself in front of him.

“Can you come a little closer,” he said, motioning with his fingers as you followed like a trained kitten.

“Okay, now give me a spin…” he directed, and you did, nearly falling over as you did so, “like this?” you asked shyly.

“No, the other way, silly,” he giggled, hooking his finger into the belt hook of your jeans and pulling you into his lap, bracing you with a protective hand as you plopped onto him.

“Like this,” he smirked, gripping your waist as he looked into your eyes through feathery lashes, thoroughly enthralled by you.

Your hands almost naturally found themselves at his shoulders, your socked-feet dangling off the dressing room couch as you clung to each other like puzzle pieces.

“So the outfits a win, yes?” You asked as he caressed your waist, hips, and thighs, sending tingles up and down your spine. In moments like this, you were almost certain that Riki could make you physically melt from his touch alone.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” he whispered deeply against the skin under your ear, kissing you softly and leaving another trail of tender pecks down your neck.

“Riki~,” you hummed gently, hands running through your boyfriends hair before he shushed you with a kiss to the lips, guiding you closer towards him by your waist.

You could feel your stomach start to flutter at how passionately he kissed you, wanting the moment to continue before he abruptly pulled away from you, his plump lips and half-lidded eyes clearly telling of how intense the contact was.

“My pretty girl,” he said, hands now leaving your body to cup your face, “you know that I think you look beautiful in anything, right?”

“Anything?,” you teased, toying with the neckline of his cotton T-shirt.

“Anything,” your boyfriend continued, reaching his hand towards your ankles, “Even in these dirty pink socks,” he giggled, tickling the base of your feet.

“Riki, you crazy child, stop that!” You yelped in a similar fit of giggles, swatting his hands away before guiding them back around you, initiating a hug. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, almost forgetting that you two were still in the changing rooms and not at home.

He guided you off of his lap, walking you towards the tall wall mirror with his hands wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your left shoulder as you both faced your reflections.

“Where’d this sudden sense of confidence come from anyway,” you pressed, a small smile staining both your faces as you looked at the mirror, lost in each other’s beauty.

“I guess it kinda just radiated off of you,” he said, once again tugging at the belt hooks on your jeans, thinking of all the places he’d wanna take you to show off your new clothes.

You bowed your head, hiding your face at Riki’s words that nearly lit your heart ablaze, “Okay, let me change out of this so we can go to the register,” you chirped, watching as your sweet boyfriend, like a trained kitten, walked back to the corner of the dressing room and covered his eyes.

—❊ Special thanks to the anon who requesting this quick piece !! I hope you guys found it just as cute as I did =^..^=

—❊ tagging: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s , because I know how much she loves likes Ri-ki 🤭 And to me fellow OG supporters, @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @ashgonedash, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy + @watamotee33

—❊ I haven’t come up with a permanent tag list yet, so leave an ask or comment letting me know if you’d like to be tagged in all my works moving forward !!

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webkinztournament · 11 months

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#Tickled Pink Cat #Bubblegum Cheeky Cat #tournament poll #poll #POP2023 #POP2023R1

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chuuyrr · 7 months

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KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US — DAZAI OSAMU

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, suggestive (kissing, touching, and making out in the office), dazai being a menace, established relationship, mentions of marriage, lovesick! dazai

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he wants you, and for you two to get caught

inspired by: agora hills by doja cat !

dazai osamu could never keep his hands to himself. he was dazai for goodness sake, and he has no shame, especially when it comes to you.

he enjoys being near to you at work just as much as he enjoys being with you in private. so, dazai takes every opportunity to be with you, whether it's holding your hand or twirling a strand of your hair in his hand while you work on reports, subtly leaning his head against your shoulder, or secretly squeezing your thigh, and he always loves the pink blush that spreads on your cheeks as you whisper yell him about pda.

but that's what makes it so difficult for him; dazai loves you too much to keep you a secret. you were his, and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, as well as who he belongs to.

you were about halfway through the papers given to you by the president when dazai slides next to you in his swivel chair, whining as he clings to your arm, "belladonna!~"

"osamu, i'm busy," you smile and giggle, but you quickly switch up, changing your tone as you sigh and flick his forehead, prompting a tiny scream and pout from him, "busy doing the papers you should be doing, mister."

"oh, come on! everyone has already gone out for lunch, and we're the only ones left here!" dazai grumbles as he wraps his arms around you after rubbing his forehead.

"and you insisted on staying with me! ugh, well maybe if you helped me, we can both get some lunch like the oth—" your eyes widen as dazai snatches the papers from your desk, putting them out of your reach and even causing some of the notepads and pens you had on your desk to roll off.

you gasp sharply, opening your mouth to scold him, but he slams his lips against yours, earning you a groan from him.

dazai's hands reach for your waist as he feverishly kisses you, his warm lips pressing deeply yet eagerly against yours.

you turn your face away, attempting to avoid his kiss as you let out a soft whine, trying to tell him off, "not now, osamu!"

but, alas, he closes the gap between you once more, this time much closer as his hands tenderly slide down and hold your hips to pull you into his lap.

dazai feels you squirm on his lap and finds himself chuckling in between the kisses, but he simply holds you firmly, one hand tenderly carressing your hip and the other now on the back of your neck to hold you in place.

how could he resist such a work of art as you? the way the sunlight from the window delicately highlights your face just for him to admire as your hair frames everything perfectly like icing on a cake, and don't even get him started on how you always smell so sweet like vanilla with your perfume.

dazai loves every single part of you and feels the need to be always closer to you, so he has his attention on you like a moth to a flame as you were a temptation for him.

you're so warm and plush in his embrace, and you can feel his warmth seeping through your clothes as much as his hands tenderly hold you in place on his lap.

"m-mmh, osamu. please—" you try to speak again, but he shuts you up with his lips once more, his kiss a demand as well as a declaration of love and desire.

"hush for a second, pretty girl," dazai's breath tickles your lips as he pulls away just a fraction before his lips were on yours again.

"then stop eating my face," you whine softly, grabbing his shoulders and successfully yanking your face away from him.

"aww, and why should i?" dazai says, smirking as he caresses your hip with one hand while the other glides from the back of your neck to your cheek to cup it, "you're just so tempting my dear."

"w-we're at work!" you stammer, squirming on his lap once more, "now put me down or else we might get caught, osamu!"

"too bad," dazai rolls his eyes at you, pinching your cheek before pulling you by the chin, so you were now nose-to-nose with each other.

you feel blood rush into your cheeks at his proximity, and even more so when he says the following words to you.

"i want us to get caught."

at this point, your face was on fire. in fact, the room—no, everything becomes too hot all of a sudden, prompting you to raise your voice out of surprise, "w-what? are you crazy?!"

"crazy in love with you, that is," dazai winks at you before tracing your cheek with his nose, trailing it down as his breath tickles your neck this time, and his breathy voice sends tingles up and down your spine, making you unable to sit still on his lap, "and you have no idea just how far a crazy man would go for his darling angel."

"your hips are an altar i would worship anytime of the day, my love," he whispers as his hands sensually trail from your neck and waist to your hips, squeezing them as he kisses your neck.

as one of his hands began to slip under your shirt, your breaths hitch and you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, and dazai revels in the feel of your skin as he kisses your neck, writing his love on it with marks and soft groans.

"and i know heaven is a thing because i go there whenever i touch you, and whenever i'm with you, baby," he groans with indulgence as his lips continue to kiss and bite at your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt now, caressing your side, the spot just under your chest.

dazai's emotions were all over the place, but it was desire mixed with exasperation. he immerses himself in the sensation of your lips and body during the heated moment, closing the gap between you with undeniable intimacy.

"fuck, i wanna tie the knot," he says in hushed mumbles, completely in love with you.

dazai lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead against yours tenderly, his hands now cupping your face at a daydream of you that he has now engraved in his mind, "i wanna see my pretty girl in a wedding dress, walking up to me to be with me til' death do us part."

"and i just wanna show her off. tell everyone she's mine and no one else's," a soft, low growl escapes his breath as he claims your lips one more time with a feverish deep kiss to mark his territory, but this time it comes with a hint of tenderness as he strokes your cheek.

"osamu, we're gonna get caught," you say softly, your breath shaky, your hands still gripping his shoulders as he continues his assault of kisses.

"then let them catch us, sweetheart. you're mine to brag about," you feel dazai's smirk against your lips, and his hands on your hips again, but this time they're sliding down to squeeze your thighs in a firm grasp that causes you to squirm on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

dazai then purposefully but playfully bounces you on his lap, causing you to let out a sharp gasp mixed with a whine. suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the office door just as his hands begin to slip further past, and your eyes widen. it was as if he knew your coworkers were about to return from their lunch break, and he did know that.

your heart rate increases with strange excitement and fear. you squirm and try to pull yourself up and away from his lap, but he simply holds you tighter against him, his arms now locking around your waist to keep you in place.

"h-hey, now! let me go!" you whisper yell.

"oh, no. you stay right where you are, my pretty girl. i'm not letting you go," dazai says with a grin, finding amusement in your panic, "nope."

"what are we gonna tell them if they see us like this?! kunikida is gonna scold us!"

"heh, tell em' that we were kissing and hoping they caught us~"

"OSAMU!"

⊹ A.N: happy halloween! ok, but like, after re-reading this and stuff, this was waaaay better in my head ૮꒰ つᯅ⊂ ꒱ა ՞ˎˊ˗

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd imagines #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd dazai #bsd oneshot #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines #dazai smut #dazai x fem reader

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grandlinedreams · 8 months

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“What,” Mihawk begins, “is that.”

It’s not so much a question as a demand for an answer and even with as mild as his tone is, you still have to take a moment to find your confidence again, adjusting your grip on the object in question.

“A kitten,” you answer. The kitten in question is little more than a mess of jet black fur and a pair of small, pointed ears that dangles limply in your hold, mewing as Mihawk stares at it. “He kind of looks like you, doesn’t he?”

Mihawk’s eyes narrow a fraction. True, the kitten is black like his hair, and the pair of eyes that peer at him are round and the same shade of gold as his own – but that, in his opinion, is where the similarities stop. “Hardly.”

“Hardly,” you echo, pitching your tone deeper in playful mockery as you bring the kitten closer to your chest, scratching underneath his chin until he starts purring. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy.”

You kiss the top of the kitten’s head, humming at the tickle of soft fur against your lips. “Says you.” The kitten mews in agreement – not so much at your words, but at the attention you’re currently giving him.

“Where did you find it?”

“Him,” you correct.

Mihawk stares at you and were it not undoubtedly beneath him, he’d roll his eyes at your persistence. “Where did you find him,” he amends, and you grin. Mihawk looks less than amused. “I hope you weren’t wandering around again. The humandrills–”

“Are friendly,” you cut in, “and I can handle myself. You know that. And besides, it gets lonely when you’re off doing who knows what.” You really don’t know what he gets up to when he leaves Kuraigana, only that he’s unscathed every time and recounts (undoubtedly heavily edited) events with an ever present air of boredom in his voice when you ask. “But to answer your question, I don’t know how he even survived long enough to end up here, but he was out near the shore.” You snuggle the little kitten to your face again. “Poor thing almost died.”

For a moment, Mihawk wonders if he should fancy himself jealous of how much attention the cat is getting from you, but that’s beneath him too – besides, he’s the one that you sleep next to at night.

“I’m keeping him,” you say and Mihawk watches you, head tilting as he arches an eyebrow in question.

“You are?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly, and the kitten offers his own opinion in the form of an indignant mewl, followed by a yawn of tiny, sharp white teeth and brief glimpse of a pink tongue before he tucks himself against you.

Mihawk sighs. “Very well. But he is not sleeping in the bedroom with us.”

(The kitten does, in fact, end up sleeping in your shared bedroom. And Mihawk decides that yes, even if it’s just a little bit, he is indeed jealous of that tiny kitten.)

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #–ml: mihawk.

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dadsbongos · 24 days

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virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #virgcore shiggy

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osachiyo · 8 months

Text

ʚ ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ɞ | fyodor d. & dazai o.

† ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs : fyodor dostoevsky & dazai osamu x fem!reader

† ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : nsfw content (mdni), rough sex, deepthroating, hair pulling, edging, uses of sex toys (dildo), pussy slapping, face slapping, spitroast, fingering, oral (f & m), unprotected sex (please be careful irl), fyozai is a warning in itself, degradation etc

† ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ : HAHA I TOLD U GUYS I'D DO A FYOZAI FIC SOMEDAY!! finally done with this, I wanted to make it longer but felt like I was holding it up for too long. happy reading & I hope you guys enjoy <3 not proofread!!

"aren't you just adorable?" Dazai smirked, cheek resting on his palm as he took in the view you offered them.

Tears dripped down your swollen and puffy cheeks, making your skin glisten. The two men infront of you merely chuckled, clearly enjoying your suffering.

You were beyond frustrated, being edged for god knows how long, thighs starting to ache from the squatting position as you rode that god forsaken dildo you used to fuck yourself earlier that night, behind Dazai and Fyodor's backs. You just couldn't help it, so so needy everytime they leave you alone. You were just a dumb little girl after all, their stupid little plaything. "are you enjoying yourself, dear?" Fyodor cooed, thumb wiping the salty water from your eyes as you shook your head vigorously. A hand wrapped itself around your hair, tugging on it harshly, "good," Dazai's tone was low, an edge to his usually cheery sing-song voice, making you shudder.

It was all so lewd, the way they could see everything, pussy squelching as your juices drip down the dildo, coating the cheap silicone with your essence. "does this feel better than our cocks, my dear? you did look like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit when you were pleasuring yourself like a little whore behind your masters' backs," Fyodor hummed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes holding a mysterious glint. His voice was flat and he held a perfect pokerface, making you unable to figure out if he was upset or not. You sniffled, cheeks puffed out into a pitiful pout, "n-no! I swear—!" you were cut off by your own gasp when the dildo started vibrating. You didn't know it could do that. The two men snickered between themselves, dangling a remote control infront of your dumbfounded face.

"what? cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" Dazai laughed, turning the vibrations up, making your whole body jolt as your eyes crossed slightly, pussy clamping down on the dildo so tightly that it almost slipped out, jaw slack as you tried your best to hold yourself together. "we knew all along, just wanted to test you," the brunnete cooed, tilting your chin up with his thumb to make you look up at him with those puffy, teary eyes that he grew to love. He leaned closer, wiping the tears dripping down your heated cheeks before squeezing them harshly, his breath tickling your ear, "and you failed."

You couldn't keep count of how many times they had denied your orgasm, making you beg, beg and beg, only to laugh at your face for being so pathetic and needy. Eventually, you became too tired from bouncing on the dildo. Now with your back against Fyodor's chest as he worked the toy in and out of your battered cunt while Dazai busied himself between your spread legs. You could feel his hot breath fanning against your clit as the ravened hair man fastened the pace of the pretty pink toy inside of your gooey cunt. "такая непослушная девчонка, да?" Fyodor's deep voice woke you from the trance you were in. You didn't understand a thing he said but god, him speaking russian made you clench harder on the vibrating toy, making Dazai's breath hitch as more of your sweet juices gushed out. You threw your head back when Dazai's lips wrapped around your clit, swirling his tongue around the aching bud, making you gush all over the place from the overwhelming pleasure. Fyodor only scoffed, pulling the toy out of you with a wet 'pop!' before you could fully enjoy the orgasmic bliss. "I thought I had made it clear that you are forbidden to cum without my permission, without our permission?" Dazai pulled away from your cunt begrudgingly, strings of your arousal sticking to his lips, "looks like our dumb little slut can't even follow simple rules now, huh?" He landed a swift smack to your clit just as you were about to protest, a pathetic cry escaping your plump and swollen lips. "now, why don't you apologize and beg for our forgiveness, my dear?" Fyodor cupped your breasts from behind, twisting and pulling at your hardened buds as you hiccuped, nodding. " 'm so sorry, I—!" you were cut off by dazai burying his face back into your pussy, licking and sucking on your lower lips. "continue," Fyodor sighed, rubbing small circles into your hip as you tried your best to collect yourself. It was so fucking hard to focus with Dazai between your pretty legs, his bandaged hands gripping your thighs apart as his nose bumped your clit everytime his tongue slipped into your warm, sticky hole. " 'm sorry that I..touched myself w-while you two were busy— mm!— and for- for being such a bad girl," you sniffled, fat tears dripping down your cheeks like two waterfalls, gasping when Dazai shoved two of his slim fingers into your cunt, curling them just right to have you seeing stars. "and— oh!— and I'll never ever d-do it again! just please— pleasepleaseplease let me cum! I'll be a good- good girl, I promise!" you sobbed, toes curling as the chestnut haired man's pace got faster, drilling his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace while his tongue worked wonders on your pearl. Fyodor's hand smoothed down your bare back, chuckling when the faintest goosebumps appear on your skin from his unusually cold temperature, "apology accepted. cum." And that's all you needed to squirt all over Dazai's face with a high pitched squeal, soaking his brown locks along with the collar of his shirt as he tried his best to swallow all your juices, not leaving a drop behind. "atta girl, did so good for us, yeah?" Dazai hummed between your thighs, voice muffled from your pussy. His voice was smooth, and an octave lower, dripping with arousal and carnal hunger for you, to ruin you beyond repair.

You were now on your hands and knees, worshipping Dazai's cock as Fyodor played with your oversensitive pussy. His cold fingers ghosted over your clit before cracking down a harsh spank on it. You cried and gurgled around the brunnette's cock. "easy now, darling. wouldn't want my pretty girl to choke," he cooed, wiping a stray tear from your eye. Your makeup was absolutely ruined, mascara running down your face in streaks along with your seemingly unending tears as your lipstick smudged and formed rings around Dazai's throbbing cock, from the tip to all the way down to the base. Fyodor wasn't at all happy with all of your attention on his rival, meanly pinching your clit between his thumb and pointed finger before landing another harsh smack on it. You jolted and tried to look back at him, but Dazai's grip was firm, locking your head in place as he thrusted up into your awaiting mouth. It was astounding how much strength he had, despite having being on the leaner side. He wasn't called the 'demon prodigy' for no reason. Your attention went back to the man behind you once again, when you felt something hot circling your entrance; his cock. It was so pretty, he wasn't on the girthier side but the length made up for it. You could see beads of precum pearling at his slit, letting you know that he wanted this just as much as you.

Your eyes rolled back in your skull when he finally, finally pushed into you, pussy sucking him in deliciously. Fyodor felt his breath hitch, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried his best not to moan from the feeling of your cunt gripping him so nicely, he couldn't, not infront of Dazai. The said man only chuckled, knowing exactly what was going on in the raven's mind, "feels good, huh?" Fyodor merely ignored him, focusing on the euphoric feeling of you wrapped around his cock. God, he didn't even realize how badly he had been wanting this, too intent on punishing you. Lithe fingers found your aching clit once again, rubbing the delicate pearl gently as he slowly rocked into you. You could feel him inside your tummy, setting your insides ablaze as he makes himself at home inside that sweet, sweet heaven between your legs.

Dazai, on the otherhand, was anything but gentle; fingers tangled in your hair as he held you in place, thrusting in and out of your mouth vigorously. Your jaw started to hurt, it'll most definitely be sore tomorrow but you didn't care. Not while getting pounded so nicely by Fyodor, as Dazai deepthroated you ruthlessly.

Fyodor was now slamming into you with much more force, blunt fingernails leaving small indents on your supple skin. His cock felt like it was about to burst, a creamy white ring forming at the base of his cock, while his eyes slightly rolled back from your pussy tightening around him. Your focus was now solely on Fyodor and the way he ruined your pussy so additively, and Dazai was not having any of that. Your eyes widened when you felt a sharp sting on your left cheek, before his thumb smoothed it down, "focus on this cock, yeah angel? god, fuuck— you're taking me so well," he moaned, yanking your head up and down by your roots, snot and tears dripping down your face at the roughness of it all.

The inside your lower tummy kept getting hotter and hotter, before bursting into flames as your orgasm hit you like a truck. " 's good— so goood—" you slurred, unable to think straight as the ravened man came inside you with one last thrust, slim hips flush against your ass, while he shot his load inside of you with a guttural groan. Dazai came shortly after, pulling out at the last moment to cum all over your face, some of it even got in your hair. You were utterly exhausted, eyes about to close— "now, how about..this time, fedya takes this little mouth, while I ruin that pretty pussy of yours further?" "I think that is a wonderful idea," Fyodor agreed, still breathless from blowing your back out.

you were so in trouble.

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @satohruu @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

Text

Introductions

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: Natalia meets your parents as your girlfriend

Pernille wishes that they could make the trip to Spain to see you more often. But with their own work schedules plus flight times and your own training, it was difficult sometimes.

But, it was all worth it when she and Magda got out of arrivals to see your beaming face waiting for them.

"Princesse!" Pernille pulls you in for a hug, cradling your face and inspecting you.

The Spanish sun has been good for you. You're practically glowing as you take Pernille's hand in one of your own and Magda's in the other.

"How has training been?" Magda asks as you all make the trek to where you've parked your car.

"Good," You reply," We've got that match against Eibar at the weekend so we've been training pretty hard."

"You're top of the table," Magda reminds you," You can't be having to train that hard."

You shrug. "Talia says she'll cook dinner if I keep a clean sheet."

"That's nice of her," Pernille cuts in when she sees Magda's eye twitch.

Your crush on Natalia has been going on for years now and Magda's never fully come around to it. In her eyes, you were still that little toddler who moved from Germany to England. You were too young to have a crush, least of all a crush on a flirty Spanish girl who practically had a salacious smirk on her face all the time.

Magda had always imagined that your first official crush would be on someone like Jessie. You'd had a childhood crush on her for years (even if you had never actually realised it) so Magda had just assumed that people like Jessie were your type.

Natalia and her flirtations were out of left field.

"Talia doesn't cook often," You explain as you slip into your car," But she makes this amazing pasta dish that I've been craving for weeks."

"That sounds wonderful," Pernille says," I'm looking forward to seeing you play this weekend. We tune into your matches whenever we can."

As the topic moves on from Natalia's, Magda finds herself relaxing.

It's not that she doesn't like Natalia. Natalia is a great girl but you're Magda's baby. She doesn't want to have to imagine you kissing a girl or falling into bed with one. You're her only child and the idea of you moving away to Spain and potentially never coming back was almost too much to handle.

"I saw that match against Real Madrid," Magda says instead," That was a fantastic dive."

"The shot winded me a little bit," You reply proudly, turning onto the street with your apartment," But I'm glad I caught it. I was a little worried that I wouldn't."

"You're the best keeper in the world," Pernille says," Of course you were going to stop it."

Your cheeks turn a little pink as you turn off the car. "We don't know that. That PSG keeper-"

"You'll win it," Magda says," I can feel it in my bones. You'll see at the end of the year. You'll win."

You don't respond to that as your cheeks flush a deeper colour, making your way up the elevator to your apartment.

"Prins is fully trained now," You say proudly as you unlock your door," And he's bilingual. Talia is trying to teach him Spanish but he's refusing."

"Good," Magda says," I knew there was a reason I liked him."

Your apartment is different to how it was when she and Pernille left you there. It's more homey and cosy. Rocky the Rock was still on one of the shelves with girl-swan and girl-moose. Everything still had a place but it felt more lived in now.

A few of Prins' toys were scattered around on the floor and there were soft blankets strewn around the room.

Prins yaps happily at seeing you all, wandering over to get tickles behind the ear from Pernille, who happily crouches down to give them to him.

She glances around slightly, feeling just like Magda that there is something different about your home.

A cat tree was wedged in one corner, with a beautiful long-furred calico sleeping in one of the little caves. There was a Barcelona training shirt that didn't have your number on it hanging over the armrest of the sofa.

There were shoes that weren't your size on the floor.

But, the real kicker was the soft footsteps coming closer and closer.

"Hola," Natalia says as she appears around the corner.

Your face brightens up as soon as you see her, only getting happier and happier as she drops a soft kiss on your lips before moving over to the kitchen area without a care in the world.

Prins goes to follow her, wagging his tail as she throws him down a treat. The beautiful cat from earlier also crawls out from her nap spot to get treats too.

Pernille has to stifle her laugh as Magda stares, a finger coming up to point between you and Natalia, who was now happily humming as she grabbed some butter from the fridge.

"I...You...She..." Magda stutters out," What?!"

"Mi vida," Natalia says," Did you want the normal bread or the fancy bread?"

"Fancy, please," You reply," Morsa, is something wrong?"

Magda's still stuttering, not fully able to articulate her thoughts as she gestures wildly.

Pernille laughs, looping her arm around Magda's waist in comfort. "I think your Morsa is just a bit confused. She wasn't expecting Natalia to be here too."

You frown. "But why? Talia lives here too?"

"What?!" Magda demands.

You give her a funny look. "She's lived here for weeks now. Did I forget to tell you?"

"Mi vida," Natalia says," Why don't we sit down. Sorry, Miss Eriksson, Miss Harder, did you want a sandwich too? I forgot to ask."

"That would be lovely, thank you, Natalia," Pernille says as she guides Magda to sit at the kitchen table," I'll have some ham if you have it and Magda's the same."

Magda barely looks mentally present in the room, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

It's very clear from the way that Natalia's moving around that she's trying to make a good impression. She's met Magda and Pernille before but that was when she was on Spain's youth team. Meeting them now as your girlfriend is different from back then.

Of course, both Magda and Pernille knew that she's been your girlfriend for a while now. You'd been very excited to tell them but Natalia moving in with you must have slipped your mind.

Natalia looks unbelievably nervous as she slides the sandwiches in front of Pernille and Magda, taking up the empty seat opposite them and next to you.

The cat from earlier leaps up onto the table, brushing her bushy tail against Natalia's face before jumping down again to wander back to her cat tree.

"That's Reina," You say proudly," She's Talia's cat."

"I can see that," Pernille says fondly," She's beautiful."

"I brush her every day," Natalia says, puffing out her chest. She's really laying it on thick. She made a sandwich for everyone. She's showing off how responsible she is by bragging about her cat's stunning pelt. She's taking care not to touch you as much as Pernille knows she wants to. She's really trying to make a good impression.

Magda laughs sardonically. "I mean," She says," You've really made yourself at home, haven't you?"

"Morsa!" You snap and Magda jolts.

You very rarely raise your voice, least of all at her but it's clear she's rubbed you up the wrong way. You seem to regret it though because your eyes dart back down to stare at the grain of the table.

Your voice stays firm though. "Don't be mean. This is Natalia's home too."

"Magda," Pernille says and it's funny how similar to two of you are," We're having a grownup conversation here. Be polite."

Magda sighs deeply. Her hand clenches into a fist and then unclenches again. She expels all of her breath.

"How long have you been moved in together?" Her voice is softer now, more welcoming but it's clear to Pernille that Natalia is still a little on edge.

"Nearly two months," You say," I think it's going really well!"

"It is," Natalia says, finally getting a bit more of her usual confidence back," We're doing very well together...Miss Eriksson."

Magda pulls a face. "Don't call me that," She says," It makes me feel old. I'm not old."

That gets you smiling again and the hand you've hidden under the table moves up to rest on it, showing that you've laced it tightly with Natalia's.

"You're old enough to have a twenty year old," You tease and that gets Natalia smiling down.

She's practically beaming at you, looking at you like you've hung the moon and the stars and the planets turned with you at the centre.

Magda doesn't like it. She doesn't want anyone looking at you like that. She doesn't want people to be attracted to you. You're her baby, the little baby who used to fit so perfectly in her arms and used to sneak into the big bed and speak German just to annoy her.

But you're grown up now and she can't think of anyone else she'd rather have look at you like you were their whole world than Natalia.

"So," Magda says begrudgingly," Natalia, I hear that you make really good pasta."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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tired-biscuit · 5 months

Note

Fwb with yuuji who has always been your pretty sunshine kind gentle best friend. You expect the same care and silliness as he fucks you into the mattress and boy do you get it. But you also get incredibly skillful hands, lithe rough fingers curving perfectly inside you, unexpected bites in the curve of your shoulder, some mumbling about how pretty you look with his marks all over. You've never seen him like this, so beautiful and wet and flushed and high on you

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

divider credits: @/benkeibear

i think he goes out for a couple of drinks with some of his mates and then shows up at your doorstep, visibly tipsy and with that insufferably pretty smile on his face that immediately persuades you to invite him in.

despite being under the influence of alcohol, he’s still respectful. he places his sneakers next to your own as neatly as he’s able after he kicks them off in the hallway and watches you with blurry eyes as you step in front of him to unzip his winter jacket.

he snickers — boyishly so — when your hands touch his shoulders so that you can undress him, and doesn’t really provide a reason as to why he’s wound up at your place in the middle of the night. always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he just tells you that he’s missed his girl, that’s all.

his cheeks are flushed pink as he calls you his. if it’s from the booze or from the chill outside, you’re unsure. so when you reach out to touch his face, he perks up and leans into it instead; kind of like a little kitty cat would rub against the hand of its owner.

he kisses the inside of your palm. your wrist. he’s so touchy when he’s buzzed and your skin smells nice, he notes, kind of like you’ve just showered. is that the reason why your hair is damp and you’ve got nothing else on but one of his t-shirts that you stole from him years ago; back when things weren’t as complicated between you and you were just friends, minus the benefits? probably.

you lean into him when his cold lips touch your skin, on instinct or because your heart tells you to do so — maybe both. he’s cold because the winter outside is harsh at this time of year, and because he had to stand in line to get you the pastry you like from the 24/7 bakery across the street, but now he’s growing warm fast, all over actually.

oh shit, the pastry!

“i got you a lil’ something,” he mumbles, speech slurred and easy-going as he’s reaching for his jacket so that he can rummage for the paper bag he’s about 85% percent sure he’d stuffed in his pocket after leaving the bakery.

however before he can, you’re on him. you kiss him gently out of gratitude for coming over not just for sex and because of the plain affection you hold for him, but he doesn’t expect it, so his back ends up pressing against the door with a soft thud.

they’re slow, the kisses. every minute of it feels like a millennium and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your tongue glides across his front teeth in that laggard way that heats his blood to higher temperatures, urging him to open his mouth wider. so he does, letting you taste the liquor.

it’s bitter but also kind of sweet — he must have taken a bite out of that ‘little something’ that he’s bought for you, it seems. nevertheless, saliva gets exchanged, your hands start to roam over his chest. his heart beats so fast during the entirety of it that it makes him groan into your mouth in a way that tickles your lips with the vibration the sound provokes.

your breathing grows quicker, meanwhile he’s already panting. he’s clumsy, his back is slightly hunched as he reaches down to grab the hem of your shirt and tries to tug it up so that he can touch naked skin instead. the bulge in his pants has become so prominent by now — it keeps pressing against your thigh whenever he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer.

“sorry, you’re just so—” he trails off, biting back a rather pathetic whimper when your hand wraps around the ridge of his cock. it twitches instantly under your touch, though only he can tell because of the denim that’s in the way. “you make me feel so… hot.”

his forehead is covered with a thin film of sweat as he rests it against your own. poor guy, he gets worked up so fast.

it’s the reason why you can barely contain the smile that’s tugging the corners of your lips upwards as you murmur, “you make me feel really hot, too, yuuji.”

it’s the truth. you’re feeling the heat in your tummy, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy because of the warm wetness steadily gathering there. your pulse is pounding in your ears with thrill.

and how couldn’t it? you’re still fairly new to this entire friends with benefits thing; every time you get down to business, it’s like an entire new world has opened for the both of you. you’ve known him for years, sure, but when the clothes come off, you’ve still got so much to learn about each other.

and it shows. as you look up at him, you realise that there is an entirely new side of your best friend staring back at you through hooded eyes and too-big pupils.

yuuji is needy, open, vulnerable. horny enough to fuck you on the floor in the middle of your hallway if you as much as said the word, but so caring that he’ll wait until morning if you’d rather have him be sober for it.

though judging by the way how your fingers are unbuckling his belt now, he guesses it’ll be the former.

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #jjk smut #biscuit drabbles

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